Star Wars - Credit Denied - Unpublished Read Online Free PDF

the arena, silencing the crowd for the beginning of the public ceremony. Rendra glanced up to the tiers above and tried to pick out her companions, but the enormous size of the stadium coupled with the massive crowd prevented her from locating them.
    But now that the noise had died down, she realized she could probably use her comlink. She slipped it out of her belt and flipped it to send mode. “Nopul, you in position?”
    “Yes,” came the barely audible reply.
    “Good. Vakir?”
    No answer.
    She called him again.
    Still nothing.
    “Oro?”
    He, too, failed to respond.
    She would have to assume they had both reached their positions but had either forgotten to turn on their comlinks or hadn’t bothered because of the noise level. They knew the plan—she just had to rely on their ability to carry it out.
    Carry it out. That was good. She didn’t even want to call it what it was: an assassination. Simple. To the point.
    Then why was it so hard to admit?
    She shook the line of reasoning before it could go any further. I guess Nopul is getting to me. Come on, Rendra, concentrate.
    She turned her attention to the two lines of dignitaries emerging from the archway. One line was composed entirely of Weequay, the other of Houk. The leader of each held aloft the banner designating his government. Oddly, the fabric remained draped about the poles, lifeless. Rendra would have expected the arena structure to create strong wind currents, especially at ground level, but the banners remained motionless as the parade continued forward toward the dais. Come on, let’s go. Let’s go. Walk faster.
    She pressed her back up against the wall of the small, partly enclosed alcove she’d found, then slid her hand in between herself and the duracrete and eventually up the back of her shirt. Slowly, she pulled away the hold-out blaster she had affixed to the skin of the small of her back. The weak adhesive gave way easily, and she just as cautiously slipped her hand back out, concealing the weapon as best she could as she eased it into the front pocket of her flight jacket.
    The crowd remained transfixed by the ceremony before them. Rendra saw expressions of sadness, joy, remorse, and hope on the faces of the assembled beings. Though they believed they were about to witness a momentous occasion, only Rendra and her companions knew it would instead become one of the most infamous events of galactic history.
    She found herself playing with the blaster trigger, and immediately yanked her hand out of her pocket. All she needed was to accidentally fire a shot—the Weequay leader hadn’t even come into view yet.
    Her heart was beating loudly in her head again—or still… she wasn’t sure. She knew she had to calm herself down, but nothing she considered seemed possible of doing so.
    Suddenly she heard a voice. It boomed from one side of the arena to the other, but didn’t reverberate back upon itself. The Weequay were definitely master architects to have created dampened acoustics in such an enormous structure.
    “Today marks a milestone in the history of the Periphery,” the voice continued. Rendra now saw that it belonged to a politician standing at the podium. The remainder of the dignitaries had seated themselves in the chairs covering the rest of the dais. Apparently she’d lost a good few minutes dealing with her nerves.
    “For thousands of years, the Weequay,” he gestured toward one side of the dais and then to the other, “and the Houk have stood fervently against one another. Now they come together, united in peace, to put an end to their long-held differences.” He paused to scan the bewitched audience.
    “Millions have died as a result of this feud. That loss comes to an end here and now. No longer will children suffer the deaths of parents, or parents the deaths of their children. Today we make peace.”
    The intonation of his last statement indicated he had come to the end of his introduction, and the crowd responded